Ascended Extras
by Lionpuppeh
Summary: A collection of oneshots on the vampires we never really got to know. Will include Volturi, the Denali, the Egyptians, and the Irish. All canon pairings included. -NEW CHAPTER: SULPICIA-
1. 1: Amun and Kebi

_-To anyone that comes upon this: What you're reading is my first venture into the Twilight fandom. I'm not quite sure how this happened, but I would really like to turn this into a collection of oneshots. I've got a background in history, so any term you might not be familiar with is most likely something I found in my wiki research as I wrote this. _

_For example: the typhonic beast (which will be mentioned), is the head of the Egyptian God Set. The fact that Meyer named Amun (her oldest vampire) after the Egyptian Sun God Amun-Ra was not lost on me. I took the ball and ran with it. I hope you enjoy._

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><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> I own nothing. Meyer owns everything. I'm just surprised and happy that she allows fanfic writers like myself wander around her universe to write.

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><p><span>Chapter 1:<span> Amun and Kebi

_Amun:_

_Born: 2949 B.C.E_  
><em>Turned: 2914 B.C.E<em>  
><em>Physical age when turned: 34<em>

_Kebi:_

_Born: 2916 B.C.E_  
><em>Turned: 2890 B.C.E<em>  
><em>Physical age when turned: 26<em>

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><p><em><span>2890 B.C.E - Nekhen, Egypt<span>_

Amun was not a man who normally knew fear. He had spent his life as the son of the palace scribe, and was the eldest of four boys. He was expected to be a scholar and a scribe like his father, and replace him as such when his father passed to the afterlife.

That was before he became a blood drinker.

He was approached at the age of 34 by one of the priests to the Pharaoh. The priest was wearing the mask of the typhonic beast. Amun had not questioned the man's presence; he was one of two of the head priests in Egypt that were revered by everyone, including the Pharaoh himself. (The Pharaoh's reverence was a heavily guarded secret).

_"Your work is extraordinary." _The man had murmured to him. _"You are a very talented man. A talented human." _

The words _talented human _should have clued Amun in. But they didn't. That was his undoing.

_"I can give you more power than you ever dreamed of." _

_That_ sentence should have made Amun think twice. But it didn't, and it cost him his mortality.

His creator went by the name of Set. What unnerved Amun was how Set always wore the mask of the typhonic beast when receiving visitors. Set's fellow brother Osiris however, kept his human face visible for everyone to see. He was also a blood drinker. Since being turned, Amun lived inside a small dwelling with Set, Osiris, and two other blood drinkers that were turned by the priests like him. On the outside, their abode looked cramped. On the inside, it was a lavishly furnished palace befitting of royalty.

Twelve years after Amun's turning, the small group of five moved closer to the palace in Nekhen. There, Amun learned that Set had fed on Amun's human wife and unborn child. He proceeded to learn that Set also killed and fed on one of Amun's brothers when Set learned the brother was searching for Amun. That was when he began to hate his creator and slowly plot his murder. But an opportunity to do so never came.

Then he laid his eyes on Kebi.

She was a servant girl that grew up in the palace, attending to the Pharaoh's wife. When she was 19, Set and Osiris had acquired Kebi and her two sisters to work for them. Officially they were given the title of Assistant Priestesses. In reality, everyone knew better. The girls, along with three other males the blood drinkers acquired were as good as slaves.

Kebi had a quiet beauty to her, which made her pale in comparison to her more exotic sisters. She rarely talked, was obedient, worked well, and knew all of the prayers. She calmed the temperamental Pharaoh. This made Set and Osiris's work as priests easier. She was a valuable asset.

Amun was simultaneously disturbed and hypnotized by her smile. At times, she reminded Amun a little too much of his late wife.

The six slaves the blood drinker priests had were the first Amun was ever introduced to. Slowly, the slaves began to be delivered to their fates. One of the men was Set's blood singer, and Set succumbed to the temptation to feed within the year. Another man came close to finding out what Set, Osiris, Amun, and his fellow blood drinkers were. Set ordered Amun to "dispatch" the man immediately. He did so with grace that impressed both brothers.

Now, Kebi and her sisters were to be sacrificed to join the Pharaoh's wife into the afterlife. Set and Osiris were planning to drain their blood before their preparation for burial. Amun didn't know about the plans of his creator and his brother until the day the girls were to be sacrificed. _That_ was when Amun knew fear for the first time in his entire existence.

He couldn't explain it, but Kebi put him in a state of calm that he had never felt since he was turned. He nearly forgot he that he was a blood drinker when he was with her. Amun's mind swirled with panic as he sped through the underground corridors of the palace at Nekhen. Kebi _couldn't _join the Pharaoh's wife in the afterlife. She just _couldn't_. Granted, Kebi talked little and she was far more complacent than the silky, sultry (and sometimes catty) palace women that he was used to interacting with, but she kept him calm. She kept him feeling human.

The room that the Pharaoh's wife was kept in was thick with tension the moment Amun stepped inside. Osiris and Set had Kebi's sisters on separate slabs nearby. Both sat up and looked at Amun curiously as he came in. Kebi however, was being held by her wrists, her eyes wide with panic. The scent of her fear permeated his nostrils. Amun shuddered for a moment, thirst clouding his senses before willing it back down.

"What's going on?" He asked this with an amount of calmness to his tone that surprised him. Set looked outraged for a moment and was about to open his mouth to tell off Amun when Osiris pressed Kebi's back to his chest. She let out a small whimper.

"This child," Osiris hissed, "is being _uncooperative_." Amun felt a burst of rage somewhere in the bottom of his chest. He wanted to snap Osiris's neck very, _very _badly.

"She does not want to join her sisters," Amun said quitely.

"Indeed," Set sneered. "And disgrace herself and her sisters in the process."

Kebi cringed at Set's words as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Her sisters refused to look at her, anger clouding their features. Amun felt otherwise. Mortality was a frightening thing to lose, especially when one didn't wish to lose it to begin with.

That was when an idea sparked inside of his mind.

"If Kebi is not willing to be sacrificed," Amun said slowly, "then perhaps she is not fit to accompany the queen into the next realm. What if she was meant for something else?"

Amun could picture Set cocking an eyebrow at him through his mask. "Oh really?" he drawled. Set knew of Amun's affinity for Kebi.

Amun kept his calm. "A restless and unwilling soul is not fit to be a companion for a goddess," he directed one hand to the Queen of Egypt, her motionless body glistening with special oils that prepared her for mummification.

Osiris was observant as his brother when it came to Amun and Kebi. He gave Amun a critical gaze and murmured low enough for only Amun and Set to hear. "You want her to become one of us." It was uttered as a statement, not a question.

Amun's red eyes flashed. "She is not fit to be a sacrifice for the queen," Amun said calmly. "Replace her with our remaining male. He will provide _plenty _of entertainment for the Queen and her escorts."

Osiris and Set understood the double meaning. Set gave a resigned sigh and nodded at Osiris. "Very well," Set said flatly. "I give you one full cycle of the seasons to get her under control. Then you both return to us and we will figure out what to do with you from there, understood?"

"Yes," Amun replied. Osiris shoved Kebi forward and right into Amun's arms. Kebi cried out from shock as Amun caught her. He immediately slipped the hood on her cloak over her head and whisked her out of the room.

Amun slowed down to a pace that Kebi could keep up with. His shoulders relaxed from the building tension of possibly losing her. She was free, and she was safe. Now she only had to be turned.

Amun turned to look at Kebi. He could hear her quiet sobs from underneath her hood. Her Bastet necklace gleamed from her neck under the dim light of the torches. "Do not worry," Amun said softly. "I do not blame you for not wanting to die. Mortality is a frightening thing to lose."

"I have shamed myself," Kebi whispered tearfully as they rounded a corner. "I have shamed my sisters, my only family. How will I ever be forgiven?"

Amun waited until the two of them had stepped out of the palace before he spoke to her again. Now at the edge of the courtyard, Amun could hear the screams of her sisters and the remaining male being sucked dry. Fortunately, Kebi heard nothing.

Standing there, Amun gently tilted Kebi's chin up so she could look him in the eyes. Wide almond colored eyes stared back at him miserably. "You are worth more than you can possibly dream of," Amun whispered. "If you say with me, I can give you a good life. My lifestyle is...different, than what you are used to," he continued, abruptly remembering that he was going to need to feed soon. "But you will adjust. I have faith that you will."

"Love me?" Kebi whispered slowly. "Love me, like a wife. I know blood drinkers cannot have children, but - "

Amun's eyes widened in shock. "You know of our secret?" he asked sharply.

"Yes," Kebi's voice trembled slightly. "I - I figured it out." She sounded frightened now. "Sir, I -"

"Amun." He found himself smiling now. "It's my name. Call me by it."

"Y-yes s-" she stuttered for a moment before composing herself. "Yes Amun." Kebi nodded slightly under her hood and took a deep breath before exhaling deeply.

"Very well," Amun chuckled. "You will become my mate."

"You are taking me to be turned then," Kebi said slowly. "Aren't you?"

Amun nodded. "Indeed I am."

Kebi glanced out past the courtyard to the stables. "Where will we go?"

"To a special place at the edge of the city." Amun motioned for her to start walking as he went down the steps. Kebi followed him, sticking close to his side. "There, I will keep watch over you as you turn. It _will _be painful," Amun warned her, remembering the agonizing burn that ripped him inside out when he unwillingly transformed years earlier.

"You will be at my side as I go through this?" Kebi inquired softly as they walked towards the stables. "You will be there when the transformation is finished?"

"Yes," Amun said. He wouldn't let Kebi out of his sight as she transformed.

"Then I will survive the pain," Kebi said simply.

Amun was astonished at his luck in Kebi's quick acceptance and her loyalty. He had a mate now. He could work on moving on from the brutal murders of his wife, his unborn child, and his brother. Amun knew that in a few decades, his two surviving brothers would also pass into the next realm. Then once Amun had fully healed, he could figure out how to kill Set and Osiris. He knew he wasn't the only one that detested the two of them. The other members of his coven also wished Set and Osiris gone.

It was only a matter of time.

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><p><em>- I've got material to go for 25- 26 chapters. I'll be dealing with almost all of the Volturi, as well as the covens introduced in Breaking Dawn. I've also got notes in my notebook to do something on Carlisle and Rosalie. But <strong>I need to know if I have the audience to do this<strong>. So please, __**please**_**_ leave me a review. _**

_If I know I have an audience, I'll happily get to typing chapter 2. Chapter 2 will be Marcus, with a guest appearance from Aro._


	2. 2: Marcus

**Take note: **_Marcus has an encounter with a werewolf (a "Child of the Moon") that ends violently. I thought I should put a warning up so you can skim the icky part of the encounter that mentions blood only lasts a paragraph.  
><em>

_**Also: **__I refer to Aro by a different name in this, because Aro is not a historically accurate name for the time he's from. I will refer to him more as Aro in the next chapter to not confuse anyone._

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><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> I own nothing. Meyer owns everything.

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><p><em><span>Marcus: <span>_

_Born: 1350 B.C.E._  
><em>Turned: 1306 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Physical age when turned: 44<em>

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><p><em><span>1256 B.C.E - The mountains of Peloponnesus, Greece:<span>_

Marcus was thankful for the new abilities that he had gained as a blood drinker. Among the many talents he now possessed was his body's impervious reaction to the cold. This worked well in his favor as he climbed the steep slopes of the mountain, the full moon shining down brightly upon him.

Marcus was somewhere on the mainland. He reluctantly fled there upon the advice of a nomad he met soon after he had transformed. "_Leave Crete"_ the fellow blood drinker had said. _"Wait fifty, sixty years before coming back. All of the people you knew and associated with will have perished, and then you can start anew."_

Marcus missed Crete dearly. It was his home. He was born, raised, educated, married, and raised a family on his own on the island of Crete. At 44, he was en route with his brother to find a doctor for a sick relative when a wanderer turned him into a blood drinker. His brother had been too badly mutilated to survive the process. Upon awakening, Marcus had tracked down his creator in outrage and snapped his neck upon sight. Somehow in the midst of madness, he had found his brother's body and given it a proper funeral pyre.

_A wanderer_, he mused. Marcus leaned upon his staff as he walked up the mountain. _That's all I am now. _It's what Marcus had been for the past forty years. He was counting.

Marcus stopped for a moment as he took in his surroundings. His mouth was dry and his nostrils started to burn. He had been feeding on a mix of travelers and whatever wild animal he could find since he had left Crete. Lately, his diet had been consisting of local wild animals since he had yet to encounter any travelers. While the golden eyes he currently had weren't as gruesome as black or red eyes, Marcus had to feed on a great deal of game in order to match the energy that he gained from a single human. It led him to search constantly for the next source of blood.

Upon reaching the peak of the mountain, Marcus sat down on a flattened rock and drew out the pouch he kept around his waist. It was full of nothing but scrolls containing major events of his human life and anything that had happened since he was turned into a blood drinker. There were two reasons why Marcus did this. he wanted to remember everything, and he wanted to create order in a lifestyle he deemed as uncertain and chaotic. He skimmed through his notes, the night chill whipping through his long dark hair. Marcus sighed and adjusted his traveling cloak as he used the notes to conjure up memories that were starting to slip from his grasp. He imagined his wife was in the next world at this point, and his sons and daughter were either with his wife or in their elder years. Did he have any grandchildren? Marcus assumed so. He certainly hoped he did.

As Marcus rolled up his scrolls, his enhanced hearing alerted him to a rustle coming from nearby. He hesitated for a moment, and then stored the scrolls back in his pouch, tying the strap to his waist.

Barely seconds later, Marcus found the wind knocked completely out of him and he was pinned to the ground. Stunned by the attack, he became aware of a liquid substance dripping from above him. He watched as a drop landed near his face before he slowly looked up to find the source.

A monster had pinned Marcus to the ground. Its face was covered with tufts of dark fur and looked like something between a disfigured man and a feral beast. Its mouth was wide open with razor sharp teeth bared right at him. The monster swiped at Marcus's chest. He immediately rolled out from under it and backed up against a nearby tree. When monster stood, Marcus was able to get a good look at what he was up against.

It was twice as broad as him and slightly taller. Fragments of torn robes hung at its waist as it stood in a hunched-over position with clawed hands and feet. Wild yellow eyes stared at Marcus before letting out a long, loud howl.

Fear shot down Marcus's spine as the beast charged at him. Out of sheer luck he was able to get out of the way before the monster, with its jaws snapping, crashed into the tree Marcus just had his back up against. It didn't take long for the monster to right itself on its feet and re-focus its position on Marcus. The tree the beast crashed into proceeded to crack at the base. It toppled backwards and hit another tree, creating a domino effect all of the way down the mountain.

There was no way Marcus could take this monster with pure brawn. Marcus quickly looked to where the trees were steadily falling one by one and bolted in that direction.

The beast followed in hot pursuit. Marcus knew that if he could trap the monster underneath enough of the fallen trees, he'd get a head start in escaping it. At the moment, the monster was too close to him as he ran towards the falling trees. To Marcus's dismay, the monster was dodging the trees as easily as he was. He ducked underneath a tree that was just about to fall, and pushed it with everything he had.

The tree didn't fall on top of the monster, but it did knock it right off of its feet. That encouraged Marcus to put on another burst of speed to get some distance between him and whatever the hell was chasing him. However it was only a matter of time before Marcus could _feel_ the monster's breath rather than _hear_ it. Before he knew it, Marcus was in the exact same spot that he was when he first encountered the monster: on his back with the nasty, snarling, spitting creature crouched over him, with something that wasn't quite saliva dripping from its mouth (it _smoked _as it hit the ground), ready and eager to make its kill.

_This was it_, Marcus realized. He thought that the gods had cursed him to live a twisted second life when he couldn't remember doing anything to anger them. _Perhaps,_ he mused faintly, _I have been forgiven. _He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable blow.

The final blow never came. What came in its place was the sound of a strangled animalistic cry. Marcus opened his eyes and recoiled, backing away as he watched the monster's head get ripped right off of its body. Blood poured out from its body and onto the ground in steady streams. Marcus managed to scramble out of the way and avoided any of the monster's blood from touching his own body. He righted himself to his feet as he watched the monster's decapitated body stumble and grope blindly in midair. Just as it found the trunk of a tree, a shadowy figure moved behind the monster and slammed its foot onto its back. The monster's body bent backwards from the impact and smashed against the base of the tree. It then crumpled to the ground.

Marcus watched as the monster's body shrank and contorted into the form of a man. He looked at the head nearby. It had turned back into a man's head as well, and its face was etched in an expression of severe pain. Marcus thinned his lips into a hard line. When he was human, the sight in front of him would have severely disturbed him. Now, he was desensitized.

Marcus was very interested in meeting his savior. It wasn't a human; he would have smelled the blood if it was. He doubted a human could have accomplished what he just witnessed. The scents that Marcus caught from the direction of the shadowed figure were decidedly foreign to him.

"Thank you," Marcus breathed heavily. "Whoever you are." Even though he had discovered he didn't need to breathe in his new form, he did so in moments of high anxiety like this one. "Come into the light so I can speak to you properly."

The figure that came before him was a male blood drinker not much younger than him. Marcus had encountered a handful of blood drinkers since he became one, and he recognized the fresh glint in the male's red eyes and his slightly jerky movements. It indicated to Marcus that the blood drinker was still new to the cursed life they led.

Judging from the worn, yet distinctive robes the blood drinker wore, he was also a Mycenaean aristocrat. Marcus's lips curled involuntarily in distaste. Upon seeing this, the male looked at Marcus's robes and gave him a very smug grin in return.

"That's what you get for not being taught the art of war, Minoan," the man smirked. "You fall prey to the moon creatures."

Marcus ignored the blood drinker's arrogance for a brief moment. "Moon creatures?"

"That's what my creator called them," the blood drinker said as he glanced up at the full moon in the sky. "They turn into poisonous beasts at every full moon. For the rest of the time, they go around as humans -"

"A bit like us, you could say." Marcus mused.

"Indeed." The blood drinker whirled around and scrutinized Marcus with a superior intensity that he only attributed with Mycenaean noblemen - like the one standing before him. "I was once Lord Alektruon of Pylos." He held out his hand. "But I doubt I'll be able to go by that name anymore."

"No, I suppose you won't." Marcus didn't know if there were any customs that he should abide to which showed Alektruon was his superior. If there was, he figured he forgot them. It wasn't like he had any intentions on following them if he did remember. As far as he was concerned, him and Alektruon were now equals due to their situation.

"Marcus," he said simply, grasping Alektruon's hand and giving it a strong, firm shake. "My human life was spent in Crete -"

"Running your family's shipping business." Alektruon finished for him. He looked at Marcus with an unfocused red gaze, their hands still clasped together in a handshake. "You took it over with your brother after your father passed away."

Marcus froze, staring at Alektruon with shock and a new sense of cautiousness. "How did you know that?"

Alektruon responded with an eerie grin. "It's a gift."

Marcus's wariness increased at the glint in Alektruon's red eyes. "A gift?"

"Indeed." Alektruon's grin became wider as he took both of Marcus's hands. "When I touch you, I can read your thoughts. I also now know _everything _about you."

"Come off it," Marcus scoffed. "Tactile telepathy doesn't exist. The gods would not grant cursed humans like _us _with a gift like that."

Alektruon cocked his head and stared at Marcus. "Oh really? You said you lived in Crete, and you ran a shipping business with your brother."

"I said nothing about a shipping business," Marcus interjected angrily. "You guessed -"

"No," Alektruon said simply, staring unblinkingly at him. "I read it in your mind." He studied Marcus for a moment. "You were married, yes? With two sons and two daughters. It took you ages to leave Crete because you watched your wife finish up her life and witness your grandchildren being born as you crept among the shadows."

Marcus recoiled at Alektruon's accuracy and stepped back, wrenching his hands away from him. The action only made Alektruon grin even wider. "I have a hypothesis," Alektruon continued in a disturbingly pleasant manner, "that there are more gifted blood drinkers out there like myself."

Marcus's practicality made him scoff. Yet at the same time, Alektruon posed a curious question. Every once in awhile, Marcus would come across groups of traveling humans. Bands of light connected each human to the other like a web. Upon closer examination, the bands of light varied between being thick and thin, and differed in their brightness and color. Marcus hesitated at Alektruon's words. _Do I have a gift like Alektruon does?_

Alektruon saw Marcus's hesitation. "Perhaps you also have a gift?"

Marcus hesitated again. "I see...differently than I used to."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure how to explain it." Marcus admitted. "But it makes me see..." he abruptly stopped talking. He wasn't about to tell a Mycenaean nobleman that he saw bands of visible multicolored light between people.

Alektruon regarded Marcus thoughtfully. "Why don't you come with me? We'll travel together and unlock your gift."

Marcus studied Alektruon. While he was a Mycenaean nobleman, he was still a blood drinker just like Marcus. Alektruon saved Marcus from the moon child, so it didn't hurt to have the nobleman as an ally. _I'd gain extra brawn...and brain, _he mused. They could cover more feeding ground. Wild game was something he severely disliked, but he fed on it when he was getting desperate.

_Maybe with Alektruon, there would be less of a need for wild game. _Marcus disliked thinking like this, but he was no longer a human. It was something he had to accept. Perhaps he was a servant of the Animal Goddess, giving her constant sacrifice.

_It's a thought, _Aro mused to himself. He looked at Alektruon. "It wouldn't hurt," Marcus said finally, "to travel with you for a little bit."

Alektruon's face lit up at Marcus's acquiescence and laughed. "Of course it wouldn't!" he clapped Marcus on the back. "After all, I _am _Lord Alektruon of Pylos!"

"You _were_ Lord Alektruon of Pylos," Marcus corrected him dryly.

Alektruon scowled briefly. "True. But I will gain my own kingdom in time," he added confidently. "My creator told me that in our current state, we live for eternity."

"Not if the moon children get to us first," Marcus muttered.

Alektruon snorted. "You are an eternal pessimist. Let us get going."

Marcus glanced at the beast's decapitated body. "Indeed." The two of them strode quickly down the mountain, leaving the dead creature far behind them.

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><p><em>-I spent ages editing this chapter down. It was too clunky and worded. I fear it still is. I may get a beta for this story.<em>

_The Minoans and Mycenaeans existed together in Greece around 1300 B.C.E. The Minoans were merchant traders, and an aristocratic warrior class governed the Mycenaeans. Marcus's hatred of them stems from the fact that the Mycenaeans conquered Crete, which was where the Minoans mainly lived. _

_And yes, Alektruon is Aro. I will transition into using the name Aro a little in the next chapter to avoid reader confusion. Here, I felt it couldn't be helped. The **next chapter will be on Aro and Didyme.**  
><em>

_**Thank you, thank you, thank you **for the reviews! They made me so happy. **Please continue to review. :) . **I will continue this as long as I know I have an audience. _


	3. 3: Aro and Didyme

_-I didn't want to confuse anyone, so I'm going to transition from Aro being called Alektruon to his name Aro. I felt in the last chapter, it couldn't be helped. I'm sorry about that._

_-I'm also sorry for any delays. Real life does keep me occupied, and I tend to get absorbed in writing other chapters. I'd like to constantly stay a few chapters ahead. :)_

_-_ _I feel that I've got a problem in keeping my tenses in check. If someone finds places in this that don't seem right, please tell me in a review. I welcome it. I'm one of those people who always feel there's something to improve on. I can't make up my mind on if I should get a beta for this story or not  
><em>

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><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> Once again, I own nothing. Meyer owns all characters, etc etc.

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><p><span>Chapter 3:<span> Aro and Didyme

_Aro:_

_Born: 1298 B.C.E._  
><em>Turned: 1257 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Physical age when turned: 41<em>

_Didyme: _

_Born: 1282 B.C.E._  
><em>Turned: 1246 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Physical age when turned: 36<em>

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><p><em><span>Pylos, Greece. 1247 B.C.E.<span>_

Didyme considered herself to be whimsical, but did a very good job of hiding it. Growing up in a society that ruled by the method of divide and conquer, hardly anyone believed in the abstract and fantastical. Yet Didyme did. She believed in magic, of odd creatures frolicking in the forests, and she believed in the gods more strongly than most people around her. So when her eldest brother very abruptly re-appeared in the garden of her villa after being declared dead for over nine years, she didn't scream like most people would.

"Alektruon!" She had been taking her evening stroll around her garden when he had appeared. Except for a different set of robes, Alektruon looked the same as he did when he left to put down a rebellion with his army in the north nine years ago.

Alektruon smiled broadly. "Didyme, my baby sister!" Gliding towards her, Alektruon wrapped her in a feather light hug. Didyme promptly frowned as she drew away - his hugs tended to be stronger than that.

That's when she placed a hand on his shoulder. "My goodness Alek," Didyme exclaimed in surprise. "I did not expect a spirit to be quite so solid!"

She drew her hand back and looked at her brother carefully as he chuckled. "I have actually come to speak to you about my disappearance."

Didyme blinked owlishly at him, her lips pursing in concern. "Was your death sinister?"

"It was." Alektruon paused for a moment before he spoke. "I was attacked by one of the commoners in the revolt. They bit my neck." He paused again before continuing. "Attempted to suck me dry. They couldn't finish. If they did," he mused. "I imagine it would have been too obvious."

There was something very casual about the way her brother talked about his death that made Didyme's eyes widen. Something was very off about the method of murder.

"I felt pain," Alektruon continued. "And later woke up." He then gestured to himself rather dramatically. "And here I am!"

"But you're solid." Didyme pointed out bluntly. "I can _touch _you. I shouldn't be able to do that."

Alektruon smiled grimly. "Technically, I'm still in my mortal body. It has simply hardened into something indestructible."

Didyme stared at him. Alektruon 'died,' but then awoke. Now that she had adjusted to his presence, Didyme could see that he was impossibly pale, had red eyes, and walked with an unnatural grace that she would attribute to a spirit. She thought about this some more - and then came to a very ghastly conclusion.

"You're _undead?"_ Didyme's eyes widened and she gaped at her brother in horror. "A walking _corpse?"_

"More or less, yes." Alektruon said grimly.

"How do you survive?"

"On human blood."

Didyme felt something churn in her gut. Fear gripped her painfully as she took a step back away from him, staring at him with a mixture of horror and disgust. "I - I don't understand," she stammered. "You're a good man, why would the gods do something like this to you?"

Alektruon seemed mysteriously unperturbed by her reaction, which made Didyme's anxiety and fear rise exponentially. "I am unsure of it myself sister," he said, "but I have come to learn something from all of this."

Which is what?" Didyme asked warily.

Alektruon smiled broadly. "There is a silver lining in this dark cloud." A sinister and victorious gleam appeared in his eyes that reminded Didyme of what her husband and his companions acted like when they were sure they were about to win a campaign. Their eyes held the same spark.

"Explain," Didyme said quietly.

"It is quite simple," Alektruon's eyes seemed to glow in the evening light. "I have been given an extraordinary present."

"Oh?" Didyme said cautiously. "What might that be?"

"There are some of us that have the ability to possess gifts." Alektruon's face broke out into a wide smile. "Consider them as powers from the gods."

Didyme looked at him oddly. Personally she considered his words to be nothing short of blasphemous, but she stayed silent on the matter. "What do you possess?" she asked.

"I," Alektruon said proudly." can read the minds of others simply by touch." He held up one of his hands, and the glint in his eyes was almost mischievous. "Care for a demonstration?"

Didyme shrank away from him, taking another step back and wrapping her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She was hurt and confused. There were a good number of years between her and Alektruon, and there were two other siblings born in between them. However, all of her memories of her eldest brother had been pleasant. Now as she gazed at his pale face in the evening light, there was an unnatural presence about him that made her wary. It made her throat close up with fear and trepidation. She didn't like it.

"Why are you really here?" Didyme asked softly.

Alektruon's face fell slightly, and he placed his hand at his side. "I had hoped this would be an easier task," he murmured. "But I see that you have become more suspicious of your surroundings as you age."

"You look like you haven't aged at all," Didyme commented.

"It's because I haven't." Alektruon said simply. "My physical form is frozen in this state for eternity." Didyme pressed her lips in a thin line at this comment and said nothing. Sighing again, her brother stepped forward. "This new life that I have is not as bad as one might think." Alektruon said quietly. "I travel, I get to see new things, and I never sleep."

"Wouldn't that grow tiring after awhile?" Didyme questioned. "Surely you must seek a place to rest after a time."

"Sometimes I do." her brother admitted. "But I spend my time plotting to gain what I have lost."

Didyme nodded and rubbed her arms. She realized he had lost a great deal of wealth, comfort, and power in this new life.

"I am in the process of reinventing myself." Alektruon continued, an inspired light coming into his eyes. "I shall gain back what I have lost. I have even given myself a new name."

"A new name?" Didyme asked dubiously.

"Indeed." Alektruon's eyes gleamed, and a small smile spread across his face. "I realized I was in need of a new name and a new persona. It took me a few years, but I have come up with something _completely _original." Alektruon looked proud of himself. "No mortal or blood drinker shall ever forget it."

"Oh?" Didyme arched an eyebrow cautiously. "And what is this new name of yours?"

Alektruon's red eyes lit up. _"Aro," _he breathed. "It's simple. It's poignant. It's unforgettable, and it rolls off the tongue. Try it Didyme," he encouraged her eagerly.

Didyme tried saying it. "_Aro." _She wrapped her shawl even tighter around her shoulders. "_Aro._Yes, I suppose it works well," She sighed. "It's easy to pronounce and it's memorable."

"I shall _make_ it memorable." Alektruon proclaimed. _No,_ Didyme bleakly reminded herself, _Aro_. "Now, dear sister, we arrive at the true reason why I am here."

"Which is what?" Didyme asked.

"I want you to join me," he said softly. "Become immortal, like me."

Didyme promptly lost all color in her face and gaped at him. _"What?"_

"I will turn you myself," Aro continued, red eyes boring holes into Didyme's blue ones. "I will be with you during the transformation and show you how to control your bloodlust enough so that you still retain a civilized nature. Then we will traverse the world."

"You want me to live for eternity and drink the blood of others?" Didyme breathed in horror. "To drink is to kill Alek, have you gone mad?"

"It's _Aro,_" he reminded her patiently, "and you have a power like mine." He voice rose passionately. "We simply must unlock it. How could you _not_ have a dormant power? You _are_ my sister after all, and a true lady of Pylos."

Didyme shook her head and took a step back. "Aro..."

"I will give you comfort," Aro took a step forward. "I will give you the love and company you secretly crave. Honestly, baby sister," he added with a scoff as he gestured towards the villa. "Who is still around that truly knows you? That loves you? The rest of our family is gone. They have perished and now exist in the netherworld. I know this because I have been in Pylos for days now."

Didyme flinched at the statement. The fact that her immediate family had died over the years from either illness or battle was something she would rather forget. Aro continued talking without noticing her flinch. "Do you really think that husband of yours truly loves you? He loved his battles and his whores in Knossos more than you," he added with a sneer. "_I _am all you truly have left."

The bottom of Didyme's stomach dropped out from hearing her brother's words, and her shawl loosened as her shoulders slumped miserably. Didyme married Hektor, a lord and an accomplished army commander a few years before Aro had vanished and was presumed dead. Hektor was cold and distant, and often went away on campaigns or business trips to Knossos. Didyme told herself over and over that she didn't mind; the distance gave her a great deal of freedom that she knew few women of her status had. Occasionally Hektor would request her to do something, like seeking out a colleague that he didn't have the time to meet, or to host a banquet. Didyme had no problem getting it done with grace and style. She knew this much pleased Hektor, even if he rarely showed it. Despite all of this, she sometimes found herself lonely.

Her thoughts were abruptly broken by Aro's sudden proximity to her. He was examining something on her right bicep. She glanced at it and gasped, recoiling from her brother's cold feather light touch. Didyme had forgotten those bruises were still there. "Alek -"

Aro didn't bother correcting her. He looked too disturbed at the bruises. "Did _Hektor_ do this to you?" His voice dropped to something low and menacing.

Didyme swallowed hard and readjusted her shawl. "It was nothing," she said stiffly. "We had a fight earlier in the day before he left for Knossos."

Aro frowned. "Over what?"

Didyme became uncharacteristically irritated. "Why don't you find out for yourself?" She thrust out her hand stiffly. "It will be a chance to show off this supposed _gift_ of yours. Go on."

Aro said nothing as he very gently touched the palm of her outstretched hand and closed his eyes. Very painfully and forcefully, Didyme brought up the memories of her fight with Hektor. The words, her defensiveness, and the painful accusation;

_"I find it hard to believe that a lady of Pylos cannot bear me the children every man seeks. This was the fifth - and it was a boy...I don't care if this child was the farthest along out of all of the others, you are still a disgrace!"_

Didyme bit her lower lip and squeezed her eyes hard to draw away the oncoming tears. At the rate things were going, Didyme was having serious doubts that she would ever be able to bear children. Each miscarriage had been a blow to her spirit, but she still picked up and carried on. Hektor had been surprisingly patient. Didyme felt that he had every reason to be angry.

When she opened her eyes, Aro had drawn his hand away from hers. Red eyes reflected both genuine horror and sympathy. "Didyme," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

Didyme gaped openly at her undead brother. _He meant what he said, _she realized with a shock._ He knows everything...he really can read minds with a simple touch. _She swallowed hard. "Well," she said flatly, re-adjusting the shawl around her shoulders. "What's done is done. I can't do anything to change it. He's giving me another year to recover before we try again."

Aro shook his head. "Your marriage isn't going to last," he said quietly.

Didyme ignored the sympathy and concern in her brother's eyes and shook her head. "No," she said stubbornly, "he said he'll give me another year to recover. I believe him."

"He has whores in Knossos." Aro said simply. "You and I both know this, do not deny it. What will happen if one of them gets pregnant?" he questioned. "What if they bear his child?"

Didyme blanched and stared at the ground as the unspoken words hung between them. _He will separate from you. You will be homeless._

Didyme inhaled with a shaky breath and sighed, looking back up at Aro. "I heard that Minoan women are treated like goddesses," she mused ruefully. "It seems like I grew up with the wrong type of men around me."

Instead of being insulted, Aro's red eyes lit up. "You know… I travel with another blood drinker like myself."

"You do?" Didyme questioned him wearily.

He gave a short nod. "I've been traveling with him for nearly as long as I've been turned," Aro said pleasantly. "Perhaps you would like to meet him? He's sheltering himself amidst the trees beyond this property." He gestured to a cluster of trees a few yards away.

Didyme looked at him dubiously. "Will he want to drink me?"

Aro laughed. "He will not. I assure you baby sister; no harm will come to you when you meet him. I will make sure of it."

Didyme nodded at Aro's promise. "Alright, I will meet him." Aro's eyes lit up at her response. "But not now," Didyme added. "At dawn."

Aro seemed fine with this arrangement. "We will meet again with my companion at dawn, underneath the shade of the trees behind us."

Didyme nodded her consent. She was a bit distracted, and didn't notice Aro's visible excitement over this meeting. However, he did notice her unease. "Do not worry Didyme," Aro smiled encouragingly. "You will like my companion very much, I am sure of it."

Didyme sought reassurance in Aro's red eyes. If his prediction about her marriage came to pass, Didyme realized she might _have _to consider joining her eldest brother as a member of the undead. Didyme was raised with pride, despite being a bit naive and whimsical. She would not be cast out onto the streets with nowhere to go. She'd make sure of that. "I'll see you at dawn," Didyme said quietly.

"Till then, sister." Aro turned around and glided away. For a moment, he hesitated and turned around. "And Didyme?"

"Hmm?" She wrapped her shawl around her tightly.

Aro's smile was warm as he looked at her. "It is truly a joy to see you again."

As Didyme felt her spirits soar under Aro's gaze, she couldn't help but think that it would be nice to have someone around again that she could trust without question. As she turned around and walked back to her villa, she realized that joining Aro might be the path to the loyal company that she wished for.

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><p><em>There! I hope my transition from Alektruon to Aro was smooth enough. Despite Aro being a historically inaccurate name for the time period he's from, I figured that someone like Aro would seek to reinvent himself quickly by giving himself an "original" name. :)<em>

_As for the "Minoan women" comment Didyme made (along with the reason why Aro was excited that she made such a comment), go back to Chapter 2 for details. I hope the person that was implied was clear enough for everyone._

_As always, __**please review.**__ They give me warm fuzzies (like any author on here), and they give me an idea if anyone is enjoying this collection and will continue to read. _

_**Next chapter: Chelsea (Charmion).**_


	4. 4: Chelsea

_-I'm so thrilled my interpretation of Aro and Didyme was liked! Since Meyer gives us an original name for Chelsea (Charmion), I shall be referring to her as such in this chapter.  
><em>

_**Note: **There's a touch of smut in this. It comes up in the last half of the chapter. And just for reference, there are four unidentified women gossiping in the agora. I know I mention so right in the chapter, but I just wanna clarify that. Enjoy :)_

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><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> I own natta. Look to Meyer for all rights. (hmm, I should make a game out of being creative with these...)

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><p><span>Chapter 4: Chelsea (Charmion)<span>

_Chelsea (Charmion):_

_Born: 1120 B.C.E._  
><em>Turned: 1100 B.C.E<em>  
><em>Physical Age when turned: 20<em>

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><p><em><span>Argos, Greece. 1101 B.C.E.<span>_

"Look -"

"There she is -"

"It's that girl -"

"No, you mean that _whore -"_

It was like this every time she went into the agora. Charmion would slip into the marketplace to purchase everything from food to a new set of leather strings for her sandals (or for the sandals of her latest lover), and slip back out. More often than not however, she'd take her time to peruse the jewelry stands seeking the newest fashions of the moment. The added trip to the jewelry stands had the benefit of giving her the opportunity to eavesdrop on the latest gossip. Half of the time, the gossip was about her. Did she mind? No, not at all.

"I heard she's been sleeping with the general's son for a few weeks now."

"Oh no! He's a married man!"

"He's a _handsome _married man."

"Oh _hush, _you -"

"That explains a lot. I saw his wife on an errand with a servant the other day. She looked so miserable. She must know about the whore by now. Poor girl!"

The four gossiping women Charmion was eavesdropping on were referring to her current affair with the general's son, a fit young man by the name of Ajax. The marriage was arranged because Ajax's family was low on money, and his wife's family came with a high dowry. Her name was Phoebe. She was well aware of her superior financial standing over her husband, and liked to take advantage it. She was known to a bit snide with her husband and was very arrogant.

Charmion smirked to herself. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen._ As a member of the lower classes, it felt good for her to bring Phoebe's pride down a few notches. Actually, it felt _fantastic_. If one wanted to get technical, she was spending Phoebe's money. Ajax was as unscrupulous as she was.

"Some jewelry for the pretty lady?" The vendor was an older woman with her hair pulled up tightly and was watching Charmion with shrewd blue eyes. Charmion looked at her briefly, slightly annoyed at what was being implied in the woman's gaze. _There's a reason why I sleep with only rich men, you know, _she grumbled to herself._ I won't steal anything. _ Charmion then pointed to an elaborate silver and blue gemstone necklace with a matching set of earrings.

"I'll take those please," Charmion said shortly. She smirked to herself as the four women nearby whispered among themselves at Charmion's choice in jewelry. Two of the women sported looks of pure disgust on their faces. Her choice in jewelry wasn't meant to be tasteful. Charmion enjoyed showing herself off when she could.

After paying the woman the price, Charmion took the wrapped items and placed them in her leather bag. She swept out of the market place, her head held high and her traveling cloak flaring out briefly around her. She swept right past the four gossiping women.

"Look at her," one sneered. "Thinking she's one of us."

"I'm telling my husband about that nasty little tramp the moment I get home!" another huffed.

"You shouldn't have to dear," the third one advised. "He should know better than to spend his nights with that _filthy _creature."

Charmion couldn't help but snort quietly as she walked out of the agora. The last woman had a point: if the marriage was strong, than neither side should have to worry about straying even if marriages around them are falling apart. However, it took trust to make a marriage strong. The upper class marriages around Charmion were sorely lacking in it.

She tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear as she walked down the dirt road to her next destination. Destroying upper class marriages were her specialty. She got a vindictive thrill every time a well dressed male overstocked with money and power crumbled to her will and happily accepted her offer to lead them astray. All it took was a thin pleated dress, face paint, batting her eyelashes, and opening up her legs. Then they were all hers.

Human nature, Charmion had discovered, was very fickle and unkind. She began to learn that firsthand as she escaped the burning and plunder of her hometown village by a group of Mycenean soldiers at the age of 13. She was orphaned that day. Charmion was eventually picked up to work again at an agora much like the one she just walked out of and was paid a simple salary for helping her boss sell his ceramic pots. She knew how to engage the people around her, and business boomed for as long as her boss was alive.

She was 17 when her boss died, and she quickly took on her first lover. With that lover, she experienced the thrill of destroying the idea and the sanctity of marriage for the first time. It shattered like a dropped ceramic pot underneath her fingers with every kiss, every seductive smile, and every caress. She had yet to go hunting for work or begging since she started cuckolding the upper class. Charmion knew how to switch between men very discreetly.

A small thatched cottage suddenly appeared over the hill. Charmion smiled. _This was the place. _She picked up her pace and slowed down as she approached the front door. However, the man she was supposed to meet appeared from around the side of the cottage.

"Took you long enough to get here." Ajax was leaning against the wall with his arms folded and a lazy smile on his face. His robes were lined in red.

Charmion moistened her lips at the sight of him and gave a disarming smile. Her eyes alternated between his eyes and his flexing biceps as she spoke. "Well," she said smoothly, drawing out the necklace from her bag. "I found myself unusually picky in my choices today."

"Hmph. The pick at the agora this morning not to your liking?" he asked, and he gave a short and approving nod at the necklace. Charmion smiled, satisfied with the hunger that was starting to appear in her lover's eyes.

"Help me put it on?" she murmured. Ajax gave her a lewd grin and sauntered over, plucking the necklace from her fingers.

In reality, Charmion never gave a thought to love. It was something that she was quite annoyed with. There was something about it that just didn't seem very realistic. The idea of true love was simply laughable to her. What she did with her life was living proof that "true love" didn't exist.

It didn't take very long for these thoughts to slide down into a bottomless pit in her mind as the cold material of the necklace touched her chest. Ajax's hands had slid down her shoulders and her arms while Charmion was pondering the non-existence of true love. Currently, they were making their way back up her chest. Her back was pressed against his muscled chest, and she gasped with pleasure as two hands slid over her breasts and began to massage them. Charmion arched her back to increase the pressure on her breasts and tightened her grip on her leather bag in her hand.

"I think," he whispered as he nipped at her neck, "that it's time to move inside, don't you?" A hand found one of her nipples through the thin material of her dress, and Charmion gave a small moan as it quickly hardened under his touch.

"How long do you have?" she gasped.

Ajax smiled against her neck, his breath husky. "I have _all day_." He found the other nipple and began to rub it. Charmion bit her lip and squirmed under his touch. All she managed to do was press her back harder into his chest.

"Lead the way," she said breathlessly. Leaving one hand on her breast, Ajax steered the two of them inside the cottage. The moment the door was shut, he whirled her around and pressed her back against the wall, capturing her lips into a heated kiss.

_This,_ Charmion thought as she eagerly returned the kiss, _is the perfect life._She didn't care for what the rest of society thought. In fact, she didn't really care for society. She had too much fun in exploiting it.

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><p><em>- Some of Meyer's earliest vampire canon states that a determining factor to a vampire's special gift is part of their identity as a human (ie: Rosalie was known for her good looks as a human). So I thought to myself: How would that work for a vampire that can break bonds and forge new ones? The answer: She was already doing it as a human.<em>

_-There's not much to say about the historical background in this. The 1100s /1000s B.C.E. was when Greece was starting to slip into the Dark Ages. Things will get more interesting as I move along chronologically. :) I am so __**thrilled**__ that Meyer gave her a different name from the one that she uses by the time the Twilight story takes place. I…seriously, I could go on in my joy._

_Thank you so much to everyone who has been reviewing. Keep them coming __**please,**__ they give me tons of warm fuzzies. :D. Same goes with any newcomer to these collections. __**Please review**__. I welcome you all. _

_**Next Chapter: Caius and Athenadora.**_


	5. 5: Caius and Athenodora

_Wow...I really didn't mean for that much time to go by. I'm going to try really hard for that to not happen again. If it does, I'll anticipate it and give warning ahead of time. Real life is creeping up on me. XD_

_This was a plot bunny that wouldn't let go. It's a __**very **__rare moment where I don't follow the dates that SM gave us. Caius is supposed to be around the same age as Aro and Marcus and from Greece. But when I heard the name Caius, I immediately thought, "Roman." I would have preferred to put him in the Roman Empire, but that was too far off the date that was given. So I went for somewhere in the middle. _

_I tried to keep Caius's personality in here, and Caius does meet Athenadora while traveling like SM said. Athenadora's past however, is a blank slate. That leaves me with some creative license. ;)_

_I'm a bit nervous about this chapter, but I do like how it turned out overall. I hope you enjoy. _

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><p><strong><em>Notice<em>**_**: **__Since I don't quite know who is reading this, I feel I should put in this warning: near the end of this chapter, there's a sensitive/traumatic situation that pops up. It _never _happens (I could __**never **__write something like that out, and I never will), but there's a setup to it. I was surprised when that was the direction the chapter went, and I ended up being a bit uncomfortable writing it. So I just want to give a heads up._

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I own nothing you see here. Meyer owns it all.

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><p><span>Chapter 5: Caius and Athenodora. <span>

_Caius:_  
><em>Born - 580 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Turned - 536 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Physical Age when turned - 44<em>

_Athenodora: _  
><em>Born - 548 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Turned - 529 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Physical Age when turned - 19<em>

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><p><em><span>529 B.C.E. Mount Parnassus, Greece<span>_

Athenodora was having strange dreams.

They were always the same. She dreamed of a man of impossible beauty. He was tall and proud with white blond hair. His voice was as smooth as silk, and his piercing red eyes made her feel utterly naked every time he looked at her. Yet there was a twist to this man's appearances: he came to her in her nightmares. He always saved her from some mysterious dark force that was on the verge of taking her life. Athenodora could never identify what the dark forces were, but she knew they put her in danger. They never ceased to terrify her. Every time she woke up from one of these nightmares, her night robes were soaked with sweat and she could feel a scream lodged in her throat.

Athenodora once asked one of the priests about her nightmares. After consulting with the others, the man returned to her with a gentle smile and told her not to worry. _"You are merely stressed," _he said to her._ "It is understandable, for there has been a recent influx of travelers coming to seek your counsel__. __We will supply you with relaxing herbs and incense to sooth your soul."_

Such was the life of a Pythia. At 15, Athenodora was handpicked to become the vessel for Apollo's prophecies. Moving to the sacred temple and caves that covered Mount Parnassus, Athenodora was guided in the ways of the Pythia. Dressed in robes fit for her virginal status and situated on a high chair, Athenodora let fumes from a gap in the caves under her chair enter her nostrils and consume her body. She then slipped into a trance and uttered Apollo's prophecies. Usually, travelers from various walks of life and social ranks sought her out for advice or direction in crucial parts of their lives. Athenodora never remembered the words she uttered when she was in her trances. Her vision always became blurred and she lost awareness of all her surroundings. She didn't mind it at all; becoming the Pythia was an honor. Athenodora felt humbled to be one of Apollo's chosen.

Athenadora was currently shifting in her seat as she waited for the next visitor to come into the receiving chamber of the cave. It was always the same process: first, the priests greeted the travelers. Then they offered their sacrifice to Apollo after it was proven their intentions were honest. After that, the travelers would step up to the edge of the dais where Athenodora was perched, briefly introduce themselves, and ask their question. The rule was the same with every visitor to the caves: each person could only ask one question.

The receiving room was dimly lit. Incense lamps that hung from the stone ceiling let the relaxing, yet pungent aroma circle throughout the room. The fragrance made Athenodora drowsy, but she knew that was the idea. The incense was a tool to aid her in getting in touch with Apollo as he spoke from her body. Athenodora looked up just in time to see the curtains part. Four of the priests stepped through in single file. They dispersed and spread themselves around the dais. Following behind them was the traveler. Upon catching a glimpse of the figure through the hazy cloud of incense that permeated the chamber, Athenodora stifled a gasp.

_It was him. _The man from her dreams was standing at the base of the dais right in front of her. He looked older than her, and wore a traveling cloak in a style that she didn't recognize. His white blond hair lay around his face in smooth, sleek lines, and Athenodora could see in the dim light of the chamber that he was paler than her and the priests. Red eyes regarded her with quiet curiosity as the two of them waited for the priests to begin. Out of the corner of her eyes, Athenodora saw a fifth priest slip into the room and draw out a scroll of parchment, ink, and a writing stylus. He sat at a small table and waited patiently for the other priests to begin.

It was becoming difficult to see the priests in their dark cloaks as the incense continued to thicken around them. Athenodora's eyes slid shut before fluttering open again. Now, all she could see was _him._

"Your name, traveler?" a priest to Athenodora's left inquired.

"Caius." The man's voice slid through the room and into her ears as smooth as honey. Athenodora hoped Apollo heard his voice; she found it truly beautiful. She focused on Caius's red eyes, which were staring at her with a piercing gaze.

"Your home, Caius?" the same priest inquired swiftly. The question seemed drawn out to Athenodora as it stretched through the haze of incense that completely cloaked the room.

"I hail from the Kingdom of Rome," came Caius's soft reply. Athenodora blinked through the haze, both in awe and confused at the man that stood before her. Caius however, remained as still as a statue and didn't break eye contact with her.

The priest asked the question that floated hazily through her thoughts. "You did not go to your own for this counsel?"

"I have not seen my home for six years," Caius said simply. "Therefore, I have no access to the Sybil. I have been traveling in the north, and found it prudent to come here."

"Very well," the priest to Athenodora's left responded slowly. "State your request. Choose your words carefully. Remember, you may only ask one question."

It was at that moment that a priest to her right climbed the steps of the dais and stood next to her with a bowl of special herbs and incense in his hands. Smoke rising from the small gap below her seat curled up around her and entered her nostrils. Athenodora shuddered as she inhaled both the smoke and the incense.

_Please Apollo, _she pleaded. _Shouldn't I listen to this man's request?_

When Caius spoke, it was with confidence and precision. "Far north of the city states lies a tyrannical kingdom gaining in power. They zealously covet wide areas of land that contain food and shelter. They require others to go through an unfair system in order to obtain access to these goods. This kingdom gains more power by the day, and will soon take over lands they have no right in trespassing. I want to _vanquish _them." There was an unnatural gleam in Caius's red eyes and a hunger in his voice as he spoke. "How should I go about this?"

The bowl of incense was placed gently in Athenodora's hands. The priest also held the bowl as she inhaled deeply. The combination of scents from the bowl and the underground smoke made Athenodora's vision blur completely. She inhaled again and her body seized up, her head rolling up to the ceiling and she lost complete awareness of her surroundings.

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><p>Athenodora's lack of awareness continued through the rest of the morning as three more travelers came to seek her advice. According to one of the priests, she had slipped into an intense trance shortly after the last visitor before completely slipping out of consciousness. She was caught as she fell from her chair and delivered to bed for a brief nap. She had just woken up and found one of the priests named Argus by her side. "The first visitor," Athenodora found herself asking cautiously. "Did he like what I said?" For reasons she could never understand, the priests told Athenodora very little of what she said. But if she asked gently enough, Argus was the one that usually complied with her wishes.<p>

"He did," Argus nodded. He was at a table in her room, copying down something on a fresh scroll of parchment.

"What did I say?" she asked softly.

Argus hesitated for a moment before he responded. "The Roman will head for Athens in six full moons to meet with a family of three. They are his kinsmen. Joining them will provide him the key to his desires."

An inexplicable wave of triumph and satisfaction rushed through her. "May the graces of Hermes guide him in his travels," she murmured.

Argus smiled faintly. "Indeed." He then gathered up his scrolls and held out a free hand. "Come my dear. You must eat. We have a long night ahead of us." Athenodora rose and gratefully took his hand. She glanced out of the small window of her room to take a peek at the setting sun on the way to her eating room. There, she'd be able to mentally prepare for the long trek back to the caves.

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><p><em><span>Three months later<span>_

The months passed by like all of the others she had experienced on Mount Parnassus. She rose, ate, walked to the caves with the priests, received visitors, went back to nap, ate, and returned to see visitors again. Athenodora and the priests had now resumed receiving travelers for counsel as the sun began to set.

Athenodora eyed the new traveler that entered the receiving chamber. The man wore a Greek traveling cloak, but he reminded her starkly of Caius. He had the same pale face, the same proud glide, and the same red eyes. Athenodora blinked and felt bewildered as the man gazed at her and quite abruptly, his eyes turned black.

The priests paid no heed. It was Argus that was stationed to her left this time, and he asked the questions. "Your name, traveler?"

"Teleclus." The traveler's voice was just as smooth as Caius's was, but it had a feral bite to it. Athenodora blinked. The haze the incense created in the chamber always clouded her senses. But for the first time, Athenodora didn't like it at all.

"Your home, Teleclus?" Argus asked him.

"I hail from a small village in Thessaly." Teleclus's black eyes raked up and down her form, and she swallowed hard.

Once again, the priests paid no heed. "State your request to the Pythia. Remember, you may ask only one question."

"Very well." Teleclus flashed a feral grin at Athenodora. "I want the Pythia."

Athenodora barely registered the screams of the priests around her before everything went black.

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><p><em><span>Caius<span>_

_Six moons from now, you must make haste for Athens. There, you will find three kinsmen like yourself. Stay with them, for they are the key to your desires..._

Caius irritably kicked a large boulder and watched with mild satisfaction as it split in half. He had never been a patient man. However, getting advice from the Pythia on how to get revenge against the rising Daician coven was a method he knew was tried and true. Kings sought her advice on war constantly.

Only one good thing came out of being interrogated and tortured by the Dacians for refusing to comply with their rules: they killed his creator. Caius had been plotting to do so ever since he fully comprehended his new status in the world and how limited it truly made him. His new position as military advisor in Superbus's court? Gone. Seeing his seaside home finished? Gone. Watching his son rise in the ranks of Superbus's court? Gone. It was all gone. He couldn't even watch in the shadows, as his death was publicly announced and his funeral was widely attended.

Caius let out a roar of rage and slammed his fist into another boulder. It split upon impact. The thought that this new form he took was punishment for aiding in the assassination of Tarquinus's predecessor constantly crossed his mind. Yet at the same time, Caius found he had no remorse for his actions as a human. He truly felt the small kingdom of Rome was better off with Tarquinus Superbus on the throne.

Caius's thoughts were interrupted when an unholy shriek of terror broke through the air. _Fresh blood? _Caius knew he had to hunt soon. Intrigued, he tore through the woods and followed the source of the shriek. The shriek then became a scream, and Caius ran harder.

A mixed fragrance of floral and patchouli assaulted his senses as he arrived at a long stream. It took him no time to find the source of the noise. At the edge of the stream among some bushes were two blood drinkers. The male had pinned a young female to the ground and was holding her by her wrists. Intrigued, Caius crept closer.

"Let me go!" The panic in the female's voice was palpable.

The male gave a low, long laugh. "Not a chance my dear. I've been plotting for months to take you as my mate. Do you _really_ think I'd let you get away so easily?" He inched the hem of her robes up further, revealing a creamy white leg. Both blood drinkers sparkled in the sun as he gripped a possessive hand on her thigh.

"You will _pay _for this if you do not stop," the woman's voice trembled. "The gods are watching us -"

She was cut off by a long and bitter laugh. "The gods have _cursed _us, you foolish woman!" The man spat. "We are on our own. Might as well be damned together, hmm?"

It was then that the female blood drinker turned her head in Caius's direction, her lips trembling. The female's face was one of fragile beauty, with a soft delicate face and aristocratic cheekbones. Long corn silk hair fanned out around her face. To Caius however, the face was a familiar one. Wild red eyes looked back at him unfocused, and Caius stifled the urge to inhale sharply.

_It's the Pythia._

Without a second thought, Caius strode to the bushes where the two blood drinkers were and wrenched the male away from the Pythia. He then bodily shoved the male to the ground. Before the other male could react, Caius was on top of him with his hand around the male's throat.

"You are a native of these lands, yes?" Caius's voice was deadly calm.

The male sneered. "What's it to you -" he started to ask, but Caius hissed and proceeded to rip off one of the male's arms. The male screamed in pain and choked out a _"Yes!"_

"Then surely," Caius continued. "You know the penalty for bringing harm to the Pythia?"

The male blood drinker beneath Caius smirked. "You can't kill me."

Caius returned the smirk before he grabbed the male's head and snapped it off of his neck. He then hurled the head into a nearby tree. The head cracked upon impact.

Caius methodically tore the rest of the limbs off of the man's body and stood up. The Pythia stood up slowly and hovered a few feet behind him, paralyzed with fear. Cautiously, Caius stepped forward. She stumbled as she stepped back, her wild red eyes darting nervously around her.

Caius sighed. _She's a newborn. _"He won't harm you anymore," he said quietly. "He's gone."

The Pythia looked warily at the dismembered body behind Caius. "Are you sure?"

"I am," Caius said simply. He noted she was still wearing her virginal robes for receiving travelers. It was covered in blood. For her sake, he couldn't let her run wild in her newborn state. "Do you remember me from the mount?" he questioned her. The Pythia nodded slowly. Caius held out his hands in a gesture of peace, hoping to keep her as calm as possible. "I have been a blood drinker for six years. Were you turned recently?"

The Pythia nodded again. "Nine days ago," she whispered.

"This is not your fault," Caius said softly. "You served Apollo well."

The Pythia trembled, her eyes wide. "But why did he abandon me?" Her voice shook. "I'll never get to the Elysian Fields now, not like this..."

Caius said nothing. He didn't know the answer. "What is your true name?"

It was a few moments before she spoke, wringing her blood soaked robes in her hands. "A-Athenodora."

_Pretty name, _Caius mused. "The volatile nature you're feeling now is normal for a blood drinker. You're a newborn. And," he continued before Athenodora could voice her panic. "I can help you."

Athenodora froze. "You want to help me?" she questioned.

Caius nodded. Truth be told, he felt sympathetic towards her. That feeling was rare for him, even when he was human. "Travel with me, and I will help you control your emotions and your thirst."

Slowly and cautiously, Athenodora took tentative steps towards Caius. When she stood by his side, he let one of his hands hover over the lower half of her back. "Come," Caius said. "We must find tools to burn the corpse. Then we will find you new robes. You will attract much attention with what you have on."

Athenodora glanced down at her robes and a small "Oh!" of surprise escaped from her lips. "I suppose," she murmured. She spared a nervous and fleeting backwards glance at the mangled corpse of her creator before disappearing into the woods with Caius.

Athenodora had found the one from her dreams that she called her protector, but at a terrible price. She found him when she was neither dead, nor alive. Now, she had no one to trust but him as he began to guide her in helping her tame her new alien form.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Historical notes:<strong>_

_**Athenodora: **__The Pythia is better known as the Oracle of Delphi, and she was the priestess at the temple of Apollo at Delphi. The Pythia was widely credited for her prophecies inspired by Apollo. A priestess called the Sybil was located in Rome and was very similar (but not identical) to the Pythia. The process of going to the Pythia for advice/prophecies is also __**very **__loosely based. I ended up using the bare bones of what historians know actually happened. The circumstances surrounding Athenodora's turning is based on a historical tidbit I found in Wikipedia. And to my knowledge, the Elysian Fields was the paradise in the Greek Underworld. _

_**Caius: **__The Rome I put Caius in is not the Rome that everyone learned about in history class. This time was before the Republic and in the age of the Roman Kings__. __I have Caius human during the period of the 6th king Servius Tulius, who made reforms that carried on into the Republic. To highlight Caius's repeatedly emphasized cold and more violent nature, I put him as one of the accomplices to Tulius's assassination.__Tulius was killed by the followers of Tarquinus Superbus, and Tarquinus subsequently took the throne._

_**Other: **__So, how did I do? I know my historical notes are long this chapter. I'm sorry about that. I try to keep them short because I know no one reads super long author's notes. If you have any questions about the history in this chapter, feel free to PM me or leave a review. I'll answer either way. _

_ As always, __**please review!**__ I promise that the next chapter will come much sooner than this one did. _

_**Next up: Sulpicia.**_


	6. 6: Sulpicia

_-I'm so happy people liked my Caius and Athenadora bit. :D With the addition of this chapter, this story/ oneshot collection is the longest out of anything I've posted on so far. -**Does a happy dance-** I know that's not saying much, but it's the simple things in life that count, right? XD_

_-Oh, and tiny minor detail info: I know the word "Italian" didn't exist back in the BCs, but I have no idea where to find out what to call the Italian peninsula back in ancient times. Etruscan? I dunno. _

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><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> I direct you to Meyer. She owns everything you see here.

* * *

><p><em><span>Sulpicia: <span>_  
><em>Born: 527 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Turned: 509 B.C.E.<em>  
><em>Physical age when turned: 18<em>

* * *

><p><em><span>510 B.C.E. Rome, Italy<span>_

Rome was a small, yet bustling kingdom on the peninsula that was located west of Greece. Overall, it seemed to Aro like it was a decent place to live. The markets were always busy, the people seemed happy, and the landscape was gorgeous. Admiring the landscape of a new kingdom was something that Aro would happily do if he was in a decent mood. Today however, Aro was far from happy. He looked to his left and scowled viciously. There, perched at the edge of the Aventine hill and admiring the setting sun, was the rest of his coven.

Aro didn't mind traveling with other blood drinkers at first. Marcus proved to have an amusingly dry wit. More importantly, he had the power to detect the bonds both humans and blood drinkers shared between each other. It was a rather meager gift compared to Aro's, but he knew there were advantageous ways to use it as they traveled through lands while meeting other blood drinkers like themselves.

The trouble began when two became three. While Aro did care for his sister (_and her power)_, he slowly became thoroughly disgruntled when Didyme and Marcus proceeded to fall in love. Mated for eternity _(as far as they knew), _Aro felt distinctly left out whenever the two became transfixed on each other. Then there was that moment when Aro accidentally stumbled upon them mid-coitus after coming back from a hunt...

Aro shuddered. _Never again._ In matters of love, Aro had become the third wheel. A few hundred years later, Aro found himself becoming the _fifth _wheel with the addition of Caius and Athenodora. They stayed because Aro was impressed with Caius's cunning. He was a foreigner, and a native of a peninsula largely filled with various Etruscan tribes. Aro also gained a new tour guide with the addition of Caius. More importantly, Caius had informed Aro of his violent run-in with the Dacian coven. Caius's eyes always lit up with fanatical hate whenever someone brought up the topic. It was a situation that _definitely _needed more investigation. Caius's mate Athenodora was a soft-spoken young woman of delicate beauty, and her appearance thrilled Didyme. Aro knew his sister craved some female company with them in their travels, and her and Didyme got along wonderfully.

Aro sighed as he tore his eyes away from the two couples and scanned the horizon. Rome was situated within walking distance of the Tiber River. Horses and chariots scattered past in the carved dirt roads below them. Caius had suggested a return to his homeland when Aro had griped to him about his lack of a mate.

"_You'd be surprised," _Caius had said to him upon suggesting it, _"how ambitious the women of Rome can be."_

"Caius!" Aro called out to him. "When do we depart for the palace?" Caius wanted to direct Aro to the royal palace, where an impending banquet was about to take place. There, Caius felt Aro could find a mate that had a similar mindset as him. They had fed before entering the city so they wouldn't be tempted by human blood. Didyme was to stick with Caius and Athenodora, who were the ones with less experience in controlling their thirst. She was to use her powers to make them forget about any thirst they might encounter while in the palace, and focus their enjoyment on the atmosphere of the banquet.

Caius painstakingly unwound himself from Athenodora and glanced down the hill at passing horses and chariots. He pursed his lips. "We leave now."

Aro let Caius lead the way down the hill. _It's about time. _He better find a potential mate here, or there would be hell to pay.

* * *

><p>"Oh," Didyme smiled brightly, "This is lovely!"<p>

The palace of Lucius Tarquinus Superbus was made of slab that felt cool to the touch. It was built that way to offer solace from the blistering heat that often encapsulated the small kingdom in the fair weather seasons. Dressed in a sky blue stola, Didyme had one hand linked with Marcus's as she ran the other hand along the walls of the palace. Caius had his arm around Athenodora's waist as he scanned the halls with a calculated eye.

"Well?" Aro asked impatiently.

"Hush," Athenodora chided him gently. "Caius is worried someone will recognize him."

"How long has it been since you've turned?" Marcus inquired.

"Twenty five years," Caius muttered.

Aro raised an eyebrow. Caius's wife and son survived him. It was feasible that his wife had passed away at this point. _But his son, however... _Caius mentioned his son was set to serve a political career in the courts. "How old was your son when you were turned?" Aro asked.

"Eighteen," came the short reply.

Aro supposed Caius had a point in being cautious. But he was getting impatient. "He looks like you, I'm sure," he said swiftly. "I'll keep an eye out for him. What's our next move?"

"It appears that the crowd is starting to thin," Caius said as he looked around. "Now would be a good time to enter the banquet."

Quickly and quietly, the five blood drinkers slipped into the thinning wave of people entering the banqueting hall. Not a single person noticed them coming in.

* * *

><p>Even though Aro found himself enjoying the physical landscape that Rome had to offer and acknowledged that the kingdom seemed to be prosperous enough, he did find it to be rather provincial. At this, Caius suggested with a bite in his voice that they turn back and descend on one of the neighboring nation tribes nearby. <em>"You'll have your pick of provincial simpletons there," <em>he had sneered. Aro politely declined. With a warning from Caius to watch his mouth, they had then entered the gates of the kingdom.

Now, as Aro slunk around the banquet hall, he found he was starting to eat his words. Rome's upper class was _ambitious. _He could see it in the way they walked and by the gleam in their eyes as they interacted with each other. It was in the way they lounged in their chairs, drank their wine, and talked politics. He could also hear it in the way they talked about the king behind his back. Sentences quietly overlapped one another as he caught hushed whispers from men and women about the king.

"The new ruling he passed -" he caught one woman whispering.

"It's absolutely atrocious," added her companion.

"The taxes he's passing -" Aro heard one man scowl quietly.

"Indeed," the man's friend said as he sipped his wine. "They'll suck us dry."

"_We _would know better," Aro caught another man saying. "_We're_ closer to the people."

Aro smiled broadly. _Ah, I love the smell of discontent in the evening. _He then went back to the task at hand: finding a potential mate.

Aro glanced around from his current spot behind a set of pillars. Beauty was a factor in finding his mate, but Aro also knew that physical features were enhanced when one became a blood drinker. Everyone became beautiful when they were turned. Aro needed someone that was more than a beautiful vampire - he needed an aide. Ideally, she'd be as sly and as cunning as him, but be willing to take a backseat as he helmed the chariot. She needed to pick things up in his absence.

Aro didn't need just a mate. He needed a queen.

Aro slunk through the banquet hall again. There were too many women here he could tell were married. Wooing them and then abducting them to be turned would be too much of a hassle. Women in plain robes served the wine and the food. Aro frowned. _Servants and slaves are too docile, too meek. _He moved to the edge of the banquet hall to think.

The thought occurred to Aro that he was being too picky when he felt something soft and warm stumble into him with a gasp. It was a girl. Barely a young woman, she quickly caught the bottle of wine that slipped out of her grasp with deft fingers. Visibly relieved the wine bottle was intact; she looked up at Aro politely. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. I clearly wasn't watching where I was going -"

"Oh no, the fault is mine," Aro interrupted pleasantly as he eyed the girl carefully. Her stola marked her as a member of the royal house, but she wasn't of the royal family. "I was not watching where I was going," Aro added. "I'm the one that should apologize."

"Hmm…" The girl looked at him carefully, watching him with shrewd blue eyes. "You are not sitting at the feast?"

"I've had too much to drink, my dear. I am simply looking to cool off," Aro said.

The girl didn't budge. Instead, she looked vaguely amused. "This is not the best place to cool off," she said. "Why not try the gardens?"

Aro started to get wary of the girl. She wasn't leaving. "This is my first time here -"

"It's quite alright," the girl said with a sly smile. "I could tell. Why don't I show you the gardens? I'm heading in that direction myself."

Simultaneously taken aback and intrigued by the girl's forwardness, Aro acquiesced to her offer. "Very well my dear," he said with a slight smile. "Lead the way."

Without another word and a small smile of her own, the girl proceeded to lead him out of the banquet hall. "So," she asked as they walked down a long corridor and turned right. "What brings you to the palace?"

"Business." Aro said simply. He kept up with her brisk walk. Aro eyed the wine she held tightly in her arms. "The wine is not for the banquet?"

The girl grinned, and Aro suddenly found her to be rather pretty. "Oh no, this is for her royal highness," she said. "She does _not _let this vintage enter the banquet halls."

Suddenly, the vague rank indicated in the girl's stola became clearer to Aro. "You wait on the queen," he observed shrewdly.

"Indeed, I do," the girl replied airily. Pride laced her voice as they made a left down a second corridor. "I have since I was fifteen."

"How old are you now?" Aro asked.

"Seventeen, sir," came the response.

Aro was starting to like this girl. She carried herself proudly. "Your parents must be thrilled that such an honor was bestowed upon you and your family."

"Hmm." She was pensive. "I imagine they would if I had any."

Aro blinked, ready to open his mouth for an apology. The girl beat him to it. "But it's alright." she paused in her speech as they made another sharp left. "I try to move forward and never look back. Besides, living here is fascinating," the girl added as they stopped in front of a door. "You can learn so much about politics by living here, don't you think?" She had her head cocked, studying him with a shrewd curiosity that belied something much greater.

_Is it possible? _Aro wondered. His ideal mate would have a power of her own, but he knew how rare finding a blood drinker with a gift often was. He considered himself lucky that most of his traveling coven was gifted. But to have his _mate _as another...

"Indeed." Aro smiled widely. "This place is perfect to learn about power. Tell me dear, what is your name?"

The girl flushed slightly, but didn't break eye contact with him. "Sulpicia, sir."

_What a lovely name._"Aro."

Sulpicia smiled and gave a small curtsy, cradling the wine bottle tightly in one arm. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Aro." She gestured to the door next to them. "Through this door lies the garden. I believe it has cooled down, so the air will be quite relaxing for you."

"Thank you." Aro placed his hand on the door and paused, turning to flash Sulpicia a brilliant smile. "And thank _you_, Sulpicia, for the lovely company."

Her smile was slightly coy. "It was a pleasure. Now," she added. "I really should depart for the queen's chambers."

"Indeed," Aro smirked. "You don't want to keep her highness waiting."

He watched Sulpicia's form glide away with the wine bottle in her arms, and a small half smile graced his lips.

_"You can learn so much about politics by living here, don't you think?"_

Aro smiled wider at Sulpicia's words and slipped out into the gardens. He just found a reason to stick around Rome. All he had to do now was to make his fellow coven mates agreeable to the idea.

* * *

><p><em>-Lucius Tarquinus Superbus was the last King of Rome. His reign ended when discontented aristocrats overthrew him and started the Roman Republic in roughly 509 B.C.E. <em>

_-Fun fact: people have known that drinking too much alcohol is bad for you all of the way back to Ancient Rome. People drank wine that was very, VERY heavily diluted with water. It was popular to slander an opposing senator in political campaigns by calling him an alcoholic. _

_-Hope you like this one. I'm a little too amused with the idea of Aro being disgruntled that he was the only one in the coven without a mate. As always, **please review! :)**_

_**Next up: Felix. **_


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